The scout realized that this hanging talk was all for the prisoner and his friends, and that the spectacular manner of Red Dick’s taking away was also to impress the men on the opposite side of the river, who were raving and yelling themselves hoarse in threats at Fighting Dan.
Buffalo Bill had seen enough of the big gambler to know that he would not seriously injure Red Dick, but had no doubt there would be a near lynching to scare the prisoner.
Turning back on the trail until dark, the scout and Cayuse went into camp, deciding to remain until very early in the morning and then ride for town so as to reach there early in the day. They had turned in scarcely more than an hour when they were awakened by hoofbeats of horses hard pushed. The riders were coming down river at a stiff gallop and directly at the camp of the scout.
“Make um saddle quick,” said Cayuse, springing up. “Him cowboys, Pa-e-has-ka,” continued the Indian boy. “No Injun ride same paleface puncher.”
“I’ll bet it’s Red Dick’s men, who have ridden to the upper ford, and crossed, and are now after Dan and his crowd,” said the scout.
The party went thundering by within a few rods, but did not see Cody and Cayuse. It was the cowboys from Bozeman, and there could be no mistaking their mission. They were shouting ribald threats as they rode, each trying to outdo his comrades in voicing what he would do to Fighting Dan.
“Something of an effort to keep up their courage, I should say,” remarked the scout.
“Ugh! Crows holler loud, all same fly ’way when eagle come,” offered Cayuse.
Once more the neighborhood was quiet and our friends were not disturbed, until just at the break of day Navi aroused the human branch of the expedition by a shrill and prolonged neigh.
Cayuse sprang up and approached his pinto to note the direction the sensitive nostrils were pointed.